MELBOURNE, Australia — Novak Djokovic, the men’s world No. 1 from Serbia, has been lifting up people from his homeland for years, but not usually like this. At the end of a practice session during last year’s Australian Open, Djokovic walked over to a waist-high fence where fans were packed 10-deep to watch him and hoisted a boy from the front of the crowd over the barricade and onto the court.

That boy, 8-year-old Novak Pokrajac, then got to play a few points with the man for whom he was named, including a 29-shot rally that ended with him hitting an overhead smash past Djokovic for a winner.

Both Novaks are back at Melbourne Park this year — Djokovic, 31, is seeking his seventh Australian Open title and 15th Grand Slam trophy, and Pokrajac, 9, is hoping to entice Djokovic into a practice-court rematch.

For the tens of thousands of Australians of Serbian descent, Djokovic is the secular saint of sport, worshiped by Serbs who still feel an acute sense of persecution nearly two decades after the worst of the Balkans’ fractious ethnic violence. That was evident on Wednesday afternoon, when Djokovic hit with the Australian teenager Alexei Popyrin in front of a crowd that included about a dozen fans flying the red, blue and white colors of the Serbian flag.

Even during the 50 weeks of the year when the Melbourne Park courts go quiet, Djokovic’s presence looms. In the office off the Serbian Voice, a weekly newspaper on the western edge of Melbourne, one wall serves as a shrine to celebrated Serbian figures from history: Serbian Orthodox Church figures; Vuk Karadzic, the creator of the Serbian Cyrillic alphabet; Nikola Tesla, the Serbian-American inventor; and Djokovic.

For Serbia, a nation of seven million people, it is “a big deal” to be able to claim the top-ranked player in men’s tennis — and one of the best ever — said Zeljko Prodanovic, the newspaper’s editor.

“After the war, it’s not so easy to say, ‘Here we are,’” he said. “You look at the movies, Serbs are always the bad guys. But now we can say we have the best tennis player in the world. That makes us proud.”

The newspaper’s owner, Zivana Jovanovic, has welcomed several Serbian luminaries to her office in her two decades at the helm, including the actor Dragan Nikolic and the retired N.B.A. player Vlade Divac. She has never met Djokovic but said she felt as if she knows him because of his high profile. For all his fame, Jovanovic said, Djokovic comes across as humble.

“I like that about him,” she said. “He hasn’t let all his success go to his head.”

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Djokovic, the top-ranked player in men's tennis, is seeking his seventh Australian Open title. CreditAsanka Brendon Ratnayake for The New York Times

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Serbian flags were on display in Melbourne in 2016 when Djokovic defeated Andy Murray in the final. CreditCameron Spencer/Getty Images

Djokovic’s celebrity status has made it hard for him to move freely in public in Melbourne, but in his younger days he had regular haunts: a church where he would ring in the Orthodox New Year, or the restaurants on Lygon Street, known for its outdoor cafes and European eateries. Now, though, when Djokovic ventures out into the city, as he did before the tournament for a photo opportunity for one of his sponsors, he is swarmed by admirers.

Still, Djokovic said he tries to meet and chat with Serbs wherever he goes and invite them to watch him play.

“I guess it nurtures the culture and tradition,” he said. “Me as one of the athletes from our country that is internationally successful, I feel there is also a responsibility to represent the country in a right way. For a lot of those people, especially who live here, they have not seen or been to Serbia for a long time. So for them it’s quite a treat to have me playing here and other tennis players from Serbia.”

Michael Popovic, a middle-aged Serb who emigrated from Belgrade to Melbourne in his 20s, was at Rod Laver Arena in 2008 when Djokovic defeated Roger Federer in the semifinals to reach the final, where he would defeat Jo-Wilfried Tsonga for his first major title.

“The feeling I had at that moment was very hard to describe,” said Popovic, a restaurateur. “It was like I just won.”

Popovic owns Mediterraneo, a restaurant on a quiet street in an upscale neighborhood south of the city center that specializes in steak and seafood. The restaurant also offers vegan and gluten-free dishes — “Because of Novak,” Popovic said, referring to Djokovic’s decision several years ago to overhaul his diet.

Michael Popovic, right, says he has adjusted the menu at his restaurant Mediterraneo because of Novak Djokovic’s gluten-free diet.CreditAsanka Brendon Ratnayake for The New York Times

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Zivana Jovanovic, left, and Zeljko Prodanovic work at The Serbian Voice, a weekly newspaper in Melbourne.CreditAsanka Brendon Ratnayake for The New York Times

But the only Djokovic whom Popovic has served is Novak’s uncle Goran. “Somehow I’ve never had the pleasure of having Novak here,” he said.

That nearly changed last weekend, when a large party of Serbs — including the pro Janko Tipsarevic, who every year distributes tournament tickets to the local Serbian community through one of his friends — stopped in for dinner. Djokovic was supposed to join them, but long after they had been seated, they received a text from him saying they should eat without him because he was stuck in meetings related to his responsibilities as the president of the ATP Player Council.

“It was a pity,” Popovic said. “I was really hoping he would come.”

On Monday, Pokrajac, the young fan, made sure he wouldn’t miss Djokovic, arriving at Melbourne Park with his mother, Snezana, more than an hour before the player was scheduled to practice. He wanted to claim a prime viewing spot, up against the fence again. The night before, Pokrajac said, he had imagined getting to hit again with Djokovic, borrowing a technique that has served him well in his matches.

Djokovic remembered. He came over, hoisted Pokrajac over the fence again, handed him a racket, and they began to hit. They played four “points.” The second rally was 34 shots; the fourth ended on the 16th, when Pokrajac hit a half-volley for a winner.

His prize was a hug and a signed T-shirt from Djokovic, who also offered a tip on how to return a slice.

“He told me to get lower,” Pokrajac said.

Two days later, Pokrajac staked out his same spot. He unfurled a Serbian flag that he had signed and which he intended to present to Djokovic as a parting gift. After his session, Djokovic came over and accepted the flag. He read what Pokrajac had written: “To Novak from Novak from Perth.” Under his signature Pokrajac had written, “It’s going to be worth gold money” and added a smiley face.

Djokovic hugged him. As Pokrajac turned to rejoin his mother, his smile was incandescent.

Karen Crouse is a sports reporter who joined the Times in 2005. She started her newspaper career at the Savannah News-Press as the first woman in the sports department. Her first book, "Norwich," was published in January, 2018.@bykaren

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page SP9 of the New York edition with the headline: Far From His Homeland, Djokovic Still Draws a Home Crowd. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe